The Ragin' Ouch
by The Forces of Evil
Summary: Notice how they never dealt with puberty issues on XME? Well, we have. Oh, yes EVIL CACKLE. The Forces of Evil surely have. Scott fans beware- the girls beat him up a LOT in this fic. All hail the Ragin' Ouch!


Scott Summers woke up one day in his room with a peculiar feeling that was telling him not to venture out the door. Perhaps it was Sam (who had a younger sister) who was standing just outside the door and hissing 'Don't go out there... it's awful... don't go out there, mah son. It's the Ragin' Ouch, dern it! The Ragin' Ouuuuuuuuuuchhhhhhhhhh...'

Perhaps it was the sounds of breaking china emanating from just down the hallway, or the noise of Sam shrieking and running for cover in his room. Or just maybe it was the sound of furtive female footsteps rushing to and from the mansion's bathrooms (there were two on the dormitory floor, intended for both boys and girls). Or maybe it was just because he had a test today. He shrugged, and got out of bed. He stretched luxuriously, checked to see his shades were exactly parallel with the bridge of his nose, and went to see Jean, because her room was next door to his.

In his usual gentlemanly fashion, he peeked around the door to see that Jean was decently dressed, and, seeing that she was, he stepped in. 'Hello, Jea-'

She turned around, and her eyes flared evilly. She picked him up with her telekinesis, shook him like a rag doll, and proceeded to slam him repeatedly against the nearest wall. Pictures and posters went fluttering to the floor relatively unharmed, which is more then can be said for the hapless Summers boy.

'HOW-'

Slam.

'DARE-'

Crash.

'YOU-'

Bang.

'VENTURE-'

Splinter.

'INTO-'

Squelch.

'MY-'

Boom.

'PERSONAL-'

Splatter.

'SPACE-'

Thud.

'WITHOUT-'

Shatter.

'KNOCKING-'

Thump.

"FIRST-"

Dislocation of shoulder.

'YOU-'

Crunch.

'ASSHOLE!'

There was a thud as Scott dropped to the floor.

'I could have been doing something private, Scott!' she whined, stepping over his bloody form and mincing down the hallway.

When Scott had popped his shoulder back in, he limped into the hallway and accidentally bumped against Kitty, who was bent almost double and clutching her stomach. Her usual healthy pallor had turned to a sickly green.

'Kitt-' he began, but trailed off as her wide, limpid eyes filled with tears. She burst into hysterical sobs and rushed away. She turned a corner and he heard her bedroom door slam.

"What is with the girls today?" he muttered, and froze as he heard someone clear their throat accusingly. Oh God. Jean!

But thankfully it was not Jean who stood behind him, but Rogue. He smiled in recognition. "Rogue, is Kitty OK?"

"Oh, don't ya'll pretend ya don't know what ya did, bastard!" snarled Rogue, and to his horror she slapped him across the face with an un-gloved hand. Because the contact was only very brief, he didn't faint right away, but as the hallway started to spin Rogue blasted him with his own powers before rushing away calling, "Kit, come out, he's just a loser. Kitty!"

Dimly, he heard the door open and Kitty sniffle, "All men are bastards." before he passed out.

---

'Hmmph. What a shame this comes around every single month.'

Scott groaned and when his vision adjusted, he could make out the forms of Professor X and Wolverine.

Logan smirked. "Kid's awake, Charles."

The Professor did that usual 'fingers-together' thing that he does and said paternally, "Ah yes. Scott. Well, seeing as you seem to be able to get along without a respirator for the moment we'll send you down to eat a late breakfast with Rahne. Lovely sensible girl."

"O-OK," wavered Scott as Logan pulled him into a sitting position. "Um, why is Rahne having a late breakfast?'

Logan and Professor X exchanged a Look. 'Erm, well, she's not feeling particularly well today. She - ' The Professor and Logan exchanged another Look -'slept in this morning.'

Scott frowned. Something wasn't right here. Maybe it was those Looks they kept giving each other. Or maybe he was just hungry. Shrugging, he got up, dusted himself off, and went down the stairs.

Professor X and Logan watched him go.

'Do you think I was a bit too harsh on him?' asked the Professor, looking thoughtful. 'I didn't want to send him into the proverbial Lion's Pit like that.'

But Logan shook his head. 'The boy needs to learn,' he said, still smirking. He cracked his knuckles. 'We all learnt the hard way. Now it's his turn.'

---

In the kitchen, the lycanthrope Rahne Sinclair was toying disinterestedly with her delicious breakfast of Premium Dog Food. I wonder why.

Scott, flippant and male lead-ish again, swaggered in. "Good morning, Rahne." He waited cautiously to see if she would snap at him, and when she didn't he took a seat at the kitchen table, relieved. The Professor had been right- at least Rahne could be relied on not to be all... weird.

"Do you have a test today?" he asked.

"I dinnae know," mumbled Rahne, chewing and swallowing.

"I've got one, and it's-"

"Get out of that seat," Rahne said in a low growl.

"What?"

"You're IRRITATING ME, Scott! Arrrrrrgh!" As she let out a primal scream, she morphed into a wolf, leaped at Scott (knocking him out of his chair) and started to maul the crap out of his crotch.

After fifteen excruciating minutes of mauling, Rahne turned back into herself. "Don't ever disturb me while I eat, Summers. I'm going to the park to chase birds. I won't be at school today, eh?" She left.

After five minutes of recuperation, Scott haltingly lifted himself off the floor, and went to the garage, hiding behind columns and doors on the way - just in case. He was immensely relieved when he reached his car unscathed (Ah, he loved his car. Screw Jean - it was the real love of his life), but horrified when he found his car bashed into a cube, only recognisable by fragments of the purple fluffy dice that hung from his rear-view mirror.

Scott decided that he'd walk to school instead.

When he got to school he found the parking lot empty and the grounds deserted. He couldn't imagine what happened - I mean, surely it was a coincidence that the words 'Mutant Chicks RULE' had been painted over the front entrance in place of the words 'Bayville High'.

When he ventured inside, the place was absurdly quiet. No, really - imagine the quietest quiet you could ever imagine (like quiet to the power of four). This was quieter than that. He shrugged, walking (out in the open) to his locker, the door of which was blown off. Moustaches, moles and glasses had been drawn on all the celebrity pictures that he'd stuck up on the walls, and 'Mutant Chicks RULE' carved into the metal within. (The 'i' was dotted with a little explosion. He had no clue who could have carried out this fiendish act- I mean dude, who could ever deface his signed picture of NSync? Oh, when he found the mysterious 'T. Smith' whose name was signed under the slogan, he would give them such a talking-to!)

Sighing, Scott reached inside for the remains of his Science textbooks, when he heard a southern-accented voice behind him.

'The Ragin' Ouch...' it whispered in a freaky, 'The Ring'-esque way. Needless to say, the 'whisper' echoed up and down the hallway several times.

He turned around. Sam Guthrie stood before him, eyes wide and hair all brushed in his face... in a freaky, 'Ring'-esque way.

'Sam?' asked Scott incredulously. 'What are you doing here?'

'Riskin' mah life,' he hissed (it echoed again). He glanced shiftily up and down the corridor. 'Ya shouldn't be heah!'

'Why not?'

'B'cause... b'cause...' but Sam trailed off, glancing to his left. Scott tilted his head.

'Sam?'

But Sam was backing away. 'Nooo,' he moaned, 'it's Paige's first tahme all over again!'

Scott watched him run off. A few seconds later, Amara appeared, casually swinging a baseball bat. She glared ominously at Scott before continuing on her way, whistling lightheartedly.

Scott decided that maybe it would be best if he hid for a while.

---

Many hours later, Scott sat on an upturned bucket in the Janitor's Closet, reading a surfer's magazine called 'Crimson Wave Monthly'. Gee, these surfers really did have interesting lives.

He glanced at his watch. "Gosh, I'm late for Jean's soccer match. Never mind, Jean's a forgiving girl. I'm sure she won't mind me missing the first half."

... Famous last words.

Scott got to the soccer pitch with only minutes left to the match. Jean was taking a penalty shot for Bayville High. Oddly, the whole Hawks soccer team AND their opponents, the Tigers, were cowering (and in many cases, sobbing) at the opposite end of the field.

The crowd seemed a little agitated, their voices hoarse from cheering. They faltered once in order to take a breath, but Jean only needed to glance at them before they started cheering again. Wow, thought Scott. She must be doing REALLY well!

"Go, Jean!" he yelled. "Go for the goal!"

Even though it seemed humanly impossible for Jean to hear his voice alone among the screaming throng, Jean was capable of many things that seemed humanly impossible. Or maybe it was just their psychic bond of love. Anyway, no sooner had he yelled this than Jean stiffened and, shading her eyes against the bright sun, screamed, "SCOTT, you'll make me miss it!" She telekinetically lobbed the ball at him- luckily, he ducked at the last second and it smashed in the face of some poor nameless bastard behind him.

A hush fell over the crowd, as everyone turned to stare at Scott. Somehow, he knew that he was in trouble.

Jean slowly turned around, and fixed her gaze on him. She looked almost eerily calm. He coughed nervously, looking about him - but the stands had emptied themselves in the span of seconds. Jean lifted herself off the ground and flew towards him, landing right in front of him.

He swallowed nervously as she gazed at him calmly, flinching as she lifted her hand and stroked his cheek, leaning closer. Scott's eyes, against their better judgement, fluttered closed - then...

THUD. Scott bent double, holding his crotch, tears welling up in his stupid, naive eyes. He tried to look up, but found that the farthest he could see was her chest.

'Sorry, Scott,' said Jean sweetly. 'My foot slipped.' Pause. Scott whimpered. She'd obviously figured out where he was looking.

'Are you looking at me like I'm a - a sex object?' she said, her voice dangerously soft. Scott blinked.

'No, no, I -'

'What, you mean you don't find me attractive?!' boomed Jean's chest.

'No,' said Scott, knowing this wasn't going to be good, 'no, I find you very attractive -'

Jean's chest heaved. 'PERVERT!' she shrieked. 'Let's see how you like it when I pay your chest some attention!'

And, without further ado, she kicked him in the collarbone.

So, predictably, Scott passed out.

---

It was the end of the school day, and a battered and bruised Scott went limping expectantly into the carpark, before remembering that his car had been bashed in by hooligans. Possibly due to the amnesia he was suffering (possibly due to his advanced levels of stupidity), he did not run for cover when he saw the X-Girls, standing in a corner and talking.

'Hey!' he called, limping over. He noticed that six pairs of eyes were glaring at him ominously. He shrugged it off, thinking that they needed to get their eyes checked, and continued towards them.

'Yes?' said Jean coldly when he'd approached. 'What can we do for you?'

'Um,' he started, 'my... my car was -'

Jean's eyes filled up with tears. He tilted his head (stupidly).

'What's wrong?'

Jean let out a sob. 'We only won eleven to two, instead of twelve to two. And you don't care, Scott Summers. You don't even CARE!" She burst into tears.

"Asshole," spat Jubes, hands on her hips.

"I- I'm so sorry?" he spluttered.

Jean's eyes went all Phoenixy. "AND I got an A minus today!"

"I missed MY test," said Scott soothingly.

Jean tossed her hair impatiently. "You think it's all about you. Well, it's not. What about my needs and dreams and emotional growth? What about MY teen angst? What about ME, Scott, huh? What- about- ME?"

Kitty sighed, massaging her stomach. "Let's go home and watch 'Notting Hill', everyone."

To Scott's surprise, all the girls nodded in agreement. This was very odd. Tabitha's favourite movie was 'Kung Pow: Enter the Fist' and Rogue watched nothing but her Special Edition DVD of 'Interview With the Vampire'. Amara liked characters she could relate to ('Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen', 'The Princess Diaries' and 'Clueless'), Rahne (who was still AWOL) had a werewolf movie fetish, Kitty had a secret obsession with Disney movies. Jubilee spurned everything but 'Blue Crush' and 'Biker Boyz'. Even Jean preferred arty French films (she fancied herself as being French when she SO wasn't) to romantic comedies. ...Weird.

He let this remark slide and said tentatively, "Uh, my car got totaled by hooligans this morning. Can I get a ride home with you girls? I mean, Jean's SUV can seat us all."

Amara's hands flew to her hips. "I like to put my feet up," she sniffed. "You're a real wimp, Scott. As if anyone would total that shitheap you call a 'car'." She thumped her baseball bat against the gravel for emphasis.

"Now, now, girls," smirked Tabitha. "Let's not be rude to Scott. We'll take him home."

Scott was pleasantly surprised. "Gee, Tabitha, that's kind of you."

"Oh yes," muttered Tabitha. "WE'LL take him home, all right!" Inexplicably, the girls started cackling evilly. They sauntered past him, each flicking her hair in his face in turn and mumbling her own very special insult. Amara smashed her baseball bat against his foot as she passed and brought up the rear of the line of girls, knocking wing mirrors off the cars that belonged to boys.

And this was how Scott found himself riding home, tied to the roofrack of the car and listening to the girls playing Aretha Franklin at top volume.

---

'Did you enjoy your day at school, Summers?'

Scott woke up with a start. It was night time, and he was still tied to the roofrack. He looked around him as best he could. 'Hello?' he called.

Silence. The, the lights flicked on (he was in the car garage), and Logan jumped onto the top of the car, an apple impaled on the claws of his left hand. He chewed it contentedly, smirking his trademark smirk. Scott glared at him as best he could through those gay-ass sunglasses of his.

'Bugger off, you,' said Scott imperiously. A fly landed on his nose, and he blew at it enthusiastically, effortlessly ruining the perfect delivery of his line. Logan, unfazed, took a bite out of his apple.

'That bad, huh?'

Scott gave up blowing as the fly died on his nose (just because it COULD) and turned to Logan again. 'Look,' he said, 'I don't know what I did to deserve this - obviously you put the girls up to this or something - but can't you give me a hint of what's going on?'

Logan shook his head. Scott turned to stare at the ceiling.

'Fuck.'

'The Ragin' Ouch,' whispered someone.

But Scott had become used to this. 'Piss off, Guthrie,' he snarled.

Sam dithered. 'It's not raht,' he moaned pitifully to Logan, 'puttin' the boy through this -'

'Through what?' said Scott. 'What is it? What's wrong with the girls?'

Logan glared at Sam. 'You're pushing it,' he warned.

'But he'll dah!'

Scott frowned. 'What?'

'DAH!' shrieked Sam.

Scott shook his head. 'What does 'dah' mean?'

Sam stamped his foot. 'Just because Ah'm a stereotype, doesn't mean Ah have to take this - this dern fool garbage!' he stepped backwards, waiting for them to be impressed.

They weren't.

SNIKT. 'Guthrie,' growled Logan. Scott heard Sam whimper. Logan cackled. 'Hello, Amara.'

Sam let out an glass-shattering shriek before running out. Logan chuckled, taking a bite of his apple again. Scott writhed pitifully.

'It isn't fair!' he moaned. 'Can't you at least let me off this thing?'

'Sure.' Two swipes and a push later, Scott found himself face-down on the asphalt, with what felt like a broken spleen.

---

Scott limped into the mansion, feeling extremely sorry for himself, and, let's face it, looking for some sympathy. In the rec room, Jean, Kitty, Rogue, Amara, Jubilee, Rahne (back from the park), Tabitha and Storm sat in the best couch in front of the television, watching 'My Girl'. The girls were all sobbing because Macaulay Culkin had just DIED (or, DAHed). Ororo, however, was sitting composedly and reading Macbeth. She was muttering something about blood on someone's hands.

'Er... hello,' said Scott cautiously, from the door.

Jean, Kitty, Rogue, Amara, Rahne and Tabitha turned around and glared at him. Kitty randomly burst into tears again.

'He made me miss out on my favourite bit,' she sobbed. Rogue, Amara, Rahne and Tabitha immediately crowded around her, cooing and giving her sympathetic hugs. Jean, however, mouthed 'bastard!' at Scott - and, using her telekinesis, slammed the door in his face.

"Good God," gasped Scott. He put his ear to the door.

"- stupid loser wanker asshole bastard," whispered Kitty, hugging herself. "Why can't he be more like Thomas J? He's so sweet to Vada!"

"And DEAD!" wailed Jubes, and the girls all teared up again.

"Well, that's the end of the movie," sniffled Rahne. "What are we watching next?"

"I vote for 'Kate and Leopold'." said Jean.

"Ooooh! Hugh Jackman is soooo cute!"

"I think I'll pass," said Ororo kindly. "I'll go and water my plants, maybe retire to bed..."

"Goodnight, Ororo!" chorused the girls as Ororo left. As she passed she raised her eyebrows at Scott. Then she was gone.

"So 'Kate and Leopold' it is, then?"

"Like, duh. But first, a bathroom break. Who needs to go?"

It was then that Scott realised that he, in fact, desperately needed to piss.

"Oh, I do," said Tabitha demurely... for Tabitha. "Not very badly, though. I'll be back in a few."

Scott started to stagger to the second floor boys' bathroom, but as he went to go in Tabitha barged past him. "Outta my way, bitch!" she snapped.

"But-"

"I needa GOOOO!" she wailed, and flung a time bomb the size of a watermelon at him.

... After Scott had extracted himself from the wreckage, he proceeded to the girls' bathroom, figuring it would be empty. No sooner had he arrived than he saw no less than three girls queuing up.

"Uh, are you-"

"Gunna be awhile," called Rahne from inside.

He groaned and joined the end of the line.

It was twelve minutes before he reached the front of the line, but when he did Kitty phased up through the bathroom floor. "Oh my God, Kitty-" he bitched.

"Ewww! Get OUT, Scott!" she shrieked, shoving him with surprising strength for such a tiny person. He landed on his ass and ran for the other bathroom, only to find the door locked.

"Open this door!" he squealed. "Open it before I get mad!"

The door creaked open. Rogue stood there, eyebrows raised.

"... Before YOU get mad, Summers?" she snapped. She peeled off a glove and dived at him. He backed right up against the wall, his narrow escape proving only useful as an opportunity for Rogue to hand the bathroom over to Jubes. Jubilee turned around to smirk at Scott before slamming the door in his face.

Things were getting desperate now. Face red, he practically fell down the stairs and into the yard, and, standing behind a bush, unzipped his fly, and was about to answer Nature's Call when his 'common sense' got the better of him.

'NOOOOOOOOOOOO!' he screamed at the stars, his fists clenched (the stars twinkled innocently back at him). 'I AM NOT AN ANIMAL!'

He zipped up his fly and crossed his legs.

'What am I going to do?' he moaned.

The sky opened up. 'Simba,' a figure called. 'Use the force, Simba.'

'Huh?' Scott asked. 'I'm not Simba, I'm Scott.'

There was a pause. 'Scottimba,' the voice conceded. "You must use the force. You must. You must. YOU MUST INCREASE YOUR BUST!"

"I will?"

"YOU WILL!"

"I will increase it still!" chanted Scott cheerily, skipping in a circle as only a boy can skip (badly).

"Huzzah! Huzzah! You need another bra!" rumbled the voice.

Realising how ridiculous he looked, Scott halted. "Um... O-K. Force?"

"USE IT, DAMN YOU! USE IT GOOD!"

It was only then that Scott realised that the voice was female.

"Mom? Is that you?"

"Call me... Momasa," the voice boomed.

"But what is the force?"

Momasa rolled her celestial eyes. "Storm has an ensuite bathroom in her attic rooms, you twit."

Scott's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, Momasa!"

"Reeeemembah who you aaare...." rumbled Momasa before buggering off into the clouds.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he waddled up to the mansion again, and, even though he was sneaking around, he managed to get to Storm's room unscathed.

Slowly, he pushed the door open. On the far side of the room, Storm could be seen, watering her beloved plants. Quietly, as quietly as a freaky-ass mouse, he sidled to the bathroom, and let rip.

Tinkle.

Splash.

Tinkle.

Even though pissing was rather painful and his urine had gone a disconcerting shade of red (you gotta remember, he's been kicked in the dick several times today), Scott was in heaven - nay, he was in the heaven ABOVE heaven, the heaven you reach only when you empty a bladder that has been full for a day and a half.

He let out a long, contented sigh, and was only mid-piss when he heard thunder behind him. Almost lazily, he turned around - and came face to face with Storm, who had rainclouds hovering ominously over her head.

The stream of piss stopped.

'HOW DARE YOU!' she shrieked, as Scott scrambled to pull up his pants.

'I'm sorry,' he stuttered, 'I-It's just that all the other toilets were taken, and, uh -'

'SILENCE, MORTAL!' Storm boomed. Had he been in a less embarrassing situation, he would have pointed out to her that she was mortal, too, but he decided it would be better for his health if he kept his mouth shut.

Storm took a step towards him. 'HOW DARE YOU DEFILE MY ENSUITE BATHROOM WITH YOUR UNHOLY PRESENCE!' Her eyes were white. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled for emphasis. 'COME TO MY AID, FEMALE MINIONS!'

And then, to his horror, Jean, Rogue, Jubilee, Amara, Tabitha, and Rahne phased up through the floor, each holding onto some part of Kitty, who looked positively miniscule next to them all.

'GET HIM!' she shrieked.

'NOO!' Scott screamed, but to no avail; as they threw him out the window he heard a distant cry of 'You and your unholy bathroom-defiling presence are making us miss 'Kate and Leopold'!"

Scott landed uncomfortably amongst the bushes. His bladder, overworked, let a long, mournful stream of piss into the air, which landed all over him. Spitting some out of the corners of his mouth, he grumbled, 'Thanks for nothing, Momasa!'

Momasa reappared. "Fair point, Scottimba, my son. ... But you WERE always the stupid one in the family."

Scott spat on the ground angrily as Momasa cackled and disappeared. That was all he needed. Nothing could make this worse -

'The Ragin' Ouch -'

'Oh, for God's SAKE!' said Scott, finding the energy to pull himself up. 'Grow UP, Sam! You can't scare me easily!'

Sam looked like he was on the edge of tears. 'But, it's true!' he mumbled.

'It's rubbish.'

Sam frowned. 'Hey, aren't y'all Canadian? Don't y'all say trash or crap or somethin'?'

Scott, who had been on his way, shook his head. 'I don't know what you're talking aboot. I ought to go oot and aboot on the toon, but it's doobtful I'd be back soon. Nah, I think I'll sleep. 'Night, Sam.'

As Scott disappeared, Sam smacked himself in the forehead and turned to the 'camera'. "Oh, Ah forgot. Scott's gotta Canadian accent, but no-one's told him yet. It's a secret- shhhh!"

---

The next morning, Scott awoke, stiff, sore, and with the worst sense of forboding he'd ever felt in his whole life. As usual, the girls were rushing about; plates were smashing, doors were slamming, and, somewhere close (possibly Jean's room), Kitty was sobbing her heart out for no apparent reason. It was this (and Rogue storming into his room and warning him not to go near her unless he wanted her to cut off his balls with a spoon) that made him decide to stay home that day.

He decided that he'd leave his room at ten. He ended up leaving at eleven.

Scott revelled in the silence. He ate a large, luxurious breakfast, had a long hot shower, and put his feet up on the couch, watching television. In other words, he was enjoying himself, and he would have continued on in this way - but then, the door opened, and Kurt burst in. Scott stared in shock. 'Kurt?' he asked.

Kurt stared guiltily at him and tried to hide the large, half-packed duffle-bag he was carrying. 'Er.. Hey, Scott,' said Kurt warily.

Scott sat up carefully, wincing. 'Where have you been?'

Kurt shuffled. 'Er,' he said, 'well, um -'

But at that moment, Evan walked in, cackling. 'Yo, I'm so jiggy wid the fact that we left that poor bastard Scott here by himself - ' he trailed off. 'What?' he asked, looking at Kurt's face.

'AHEM,' said Scott prissily.

Evan shrieked. 'Oh... hi, Scott,' he said, faking a grin. His forehead glistened with sweat. 'Er... how you been?'

Scott folded his arms. 'I've been beaten up on several occasions by almost every girl in this house in turn,' he said stonily.

Kurt and Evan fought back laughs. 'You... poor thing...' snigger. 'We...' snort. 'Feel for you -' Then they burst into laughter so hard that their eyes filled up with tears.

'Hey, what's going on?'

Ray, Bobby, Roberto, and Jamie appeared around the corner all carrying luggage, and, upon seeing Scott, pissed themselves laughing. Scott put his hands on his hips in a worryingly girly fashion.

'Where have you BEEN?!' he screeched.

Ray snickered, "Uh, my mom got sick."

"Don't give me that, Rooster Boy!" squealed Scott.

"It's true!" cried Ray indignantly. "She had uh- um..."

"Syphilis," supplied Jamie.

"Syphilis?" echoed Roberto. Bobby elbowed him hard in the side. "Oh, yeah. Nasty little bout of syphilis."

"Poor Mrs Crisp," said Jamie, clasping his hands over his heart in a holy fashion.

"Yes, poor Mrs Crisp," intoned the other boys.

"Uh, yeah. My condolences," said Scott uncomfortably. "What about you, Kurt?"

"Um, uh, haemorrhoids," he blurted out, blushing.

"What, you?" asked Scott.

"His sister," offered Bobby.

Scott pulled a face. Bad mental image. "Who, Rogue?"

"What? No! Um, mein mother. Yes... her."

"Your mom was sick too?"

"Er... yes."

"And you?" he asked Roberto.

"Um, spontaneous human combustion. My mother. We are all- very sad."

"You?"

"Herpes," giggled Bobby.

"You?"

"Um... er..." Jamie didn't have any ideas left. "I-" He glowered. "I just can't talk about it, OK? I'm only twelve!" He pretended to cry, doing a pretty good job of it too.

Scott rolled his eyes. 'Whatever.' He paused. 'Where are you really going?'

Now the boys looked really shifty. 'We can't tell you,' Kurt whispered. 'We were sworn to secrecy.'

'Please!' Scott begged. 'I'm suffering here! I've been hit, I've been bashed, I've been tied to the roofrack of a car, I've been thrown out a window - I'm pissing RED, for goodness' sake -'

The boys looked disgusted. 'Eww,' said Jamie.

Scott waved an impatient hand. 'Just tell me.'

They looked at each other thoughtfully. 'Okay,' Roberto conceded. 'We're running from... The Raging O -'

'Oh, COME ON!' Scott snarled, standing up in his anger. 'Don't tell me it's because of that Ouch crap -'

'It's not crap!' cut in Bobby, 'it's -'

'Nothing.'

Evan frowned. 'The Raging Ouch is what is making the girls so pissy. It's something to escape rather than endure. You understand this.'

Scott shook his head. Evan looked shifty.

'It's a -' he bent in and whispered. 'Girl thing.'

The boys looked extremely uncomfortable at this, as if they were scared someone would come over and whack them over the head. Scott finally caught on.

'Have they broken up with someone?' he asked.

The rest of the boys slapped their hands to their foreheads. 'You're hopeless,' said Ray, shaking his head. 'We'll leave you here, just to teach you a lesson.'

They turned to go. Scott feared for his life.

'No, wait!' Scott dashed after them. 'Take me with you!'

Kurt turned around. 'Sorry, Scott,' he said apologetically, 'but without your convertible, your usefullness has...' he shrugged. 'Ended.'

Everyone stiffened as they heard Jean's SUV pull into the driveway.

'Run for cover!' screamed Ray.

Everyone dashed for Kurt, two to an arm, and, with a sad smile, they BAMFED away (hehehe...).

'NOOOOOOOOO!' Scott screamed. Pause. 'STELLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!'

It was Scott's random quoting of 'A Streetcar Named Desire' that would be his (latest) downfall. Jean appeared on the stairs with Rogue and Tabitha.

'What did you say?' asked Jean.

'Er -'

'Who's Stella?' her eyes narrowed.

'No one - I was quoting a play -'

'Do you know the writer?'

'Yes, but -'

Jean's eyes gleamed. 'AHA! YOU ARE CHEATING ON ME WITH THE WRITER OF THE PLAY!'

'No,' said Scott, thinking quickly, 'the writer's dead -'

She gasped. 'You are cheating on me in SPIRIT!'

Scott waved his hands, agitated. 'No, you don't understand - I think the writer's a guy.'

There was a silence that lasted an eternity. Then, Tabitha gasped.

'He's GAY! Oh my God, Jean, didn't I tell you from the very beginning he HAD to be gay?"

"Ew, and Ah used to have a crush on him," said Rogue, wrinkling her nose.

Tabitha, Scott and Jean turned to her. "Um, excuse me?" asked Jean, prissily as her boyfriend.

Rogue blushed. "H-Hey, HE'S the one who's cheatin' on ya in spirit, Jean!"

Jean blinked. 'Oh yeah.' She turned back to Scott, who was standing guiltily at the top of the stairs. 'YOU LYING CHEATING LOWLIFE DIRTY SNEAKY... LOWLIFE!' she crowed (Rogue turned to the 'camera'. 'Because we've used the word 'bastard' so many times already,' she whispered) and began to beat the psychological crap out of him.

That day, Scott didn't eat dinner. He was cowering at the bottom of the wardrobe in Kurt's room, hiding from the girls (Professor X and Logan had barricaded themselves inside Cerebro and wouldn't get out -or let him in).

---

"The third day," said Rogue tiredly, sitting on the couch with Jean and waiting for the others to return from the bathrooms. God, but she was getting sick of chick flicks. It was a sign her Raging Ouch was waning.

"The final day of a mutant cycle. I'm so glad- I was in SO much pain- not that I'm not suffering now, of course," said Jean airily.

God, but she was getting sick of Jean. Another sign was that she felt considerably less sisterly toward the other X-Girls.

"Can't believe your boyfriend's cheatin' on ya in spirit, Jean. Ah mean, Ah never woulda thought he'd be GAY." Rogue smirked. "Makes me wanna give Gambit a call."

Jean's eyes widened. "But Rogue- he's a GUY!"

"Well, Ah'd hardly be goin' out with him if he weren't, huh? I'll be back in a few."

Rogue nipped into Kitty's room to nick a few precious moments on her former roommate's private line. "Uh, hey. ...Yeah. Can Ah speak to- to Remy, please?"

A pause. "Whaddya mean, he ain't able to come to the phone right now? Bastard!" With a random spurt of PMS-induced rage, she slammed down the telephone. Disregarding the fact that she'd coined the overused b-word, she wandered glassy-eyed to the bureau and, searching through the cosmetics there, unearthed a red lipstick.

The other girls' heads swivelled toward the doorway of the rec room twenty minutes later as Rogue stepped through, brandishing the red lipstick.

"Um, Rogue?" asked Kitty, whose Raging Ouch was also waning. This could be seen by the fact that she was clutching only three hot water bottles and not the usual eight. "Are you OK?"

"... TheRagin'OuchTheRagin'OuchTheRagin'OuchTheRagin'OuchTheRagin'Ouch..." chanted Rogue.

The other girls shrugged and, all in a second, became also glassy-eyed. "TheRagin'OuchTheRagin'OuchTheRagin'OuchTheRagin'OuchTheRagin'Ouch..." they joined in, rising from their seats.

Where was Ororo? Where were those ceremonial cloaks the Professor kept around for... some reason? This Raging Ouch was going to go out with a bang.

---

Thunder boomed, and sheets of rain slapped mercilessly against the windows. Scott moaned, burrowing further underneath his sheets. Either the weather's really bad, he thought, or Ororo's not feeling at peace with the world.

Lightning flashed, and Scott groaned, tossing and turning underneath the sheets, relishing the heat but hating the stuffy air underneath the quilt, and, after a few seconds of half-hearted endurance, he flung the covers back and sat up, gasping in long, draughts of cool, damp air.

Lightning flashed, and for some reason he found himself tensing up at the sudden shock of brief light inside the room. He shook himself, and lay back against the pillows.

The first flash, no one was there.

The second flash, he thought he saw a fleeting shadow. Worriedly, he went to turn on his bedside table lamp, but the electricity seemed to have gone out.

And then a soft voice emanated from the darkness. "The Raging Ouch, Scott Algernon Summers... the Raging Ouch..."

Scott sighed deeply and turned onto his stomach, hitting his head repeatedly against his pillow. "For the love of God, Sam, PISS OFF!"

A very pregnant pause. "... You dare to mock the Rage, then?"

"Yes, I damn well-" He stopped, mouth dropping open in horror. Sam didn't know his middle name...

Lightning flashed and to Scott's terror, the words THE RAGING OUCH had been scrawled hundreds of times over his bedroom walls in what looked like... blood. Eight cloaked figures stood at the end of his bed, chanting under their breath, faces not visible. He tried to scream, but no sound came out.

Lightning flashed again, and the tallest of the figures spoke.

'Scott Algernon Summers,' the voice boomed imperiously. The chanting became slightly faster. 'You have dishonoured the Raging Ouch, which gives life to babies. You have dishonoured the Rage's Slaves in their worship. You defile ALL.'

'...TheRagingOuchTheRagingOuchTheRagingOuchTheRagingOuchTheRagingOuch...' the others chanted louder.

The Tallest's head bowed slightly. 'Prepare for your punishment -'

Scott tilted his head. 'Storm?' he asked. 'Is that you?'

There was a slight lull in the chanting. 'SILENCE, PUNY MORTAL!' she boomed. Thunder rumbled so loudly that his table lamp shook. 'For your punishment, we will exact upon you the Rage's most terrible torture.'

'Huh?' said Scott. 'Look, I don't know what I did to insult that Rage thing, but -'

The Cloaked Figures were not listening. They had flitted to strategic points around the room, and had begun to light candles. Only two remained at the end of his bed.

'The hair from your very legs and eyebrows will be ripped out with burning wax. Your face will be adorned with ridiculous pigments, and your hair ludicrously styled.' Scott's eyes widened.

'No...'

'Yes, Scott,' continued Storm. 'We call this torture... the unholy makeover.'

'NOOOOOOOOOOO!' Scott shrieked. He tried to get out of his bed, but the second Cloaked Figure (who was most certainly Jean) flung a hand towards him, and he found himself pinned to the bed.

'I'm sorry,' he yelped pathetically, 'I'm SORRY!'

"Consider this payback for cheating on me in spirit," hissed Jean.

"But I didn't!"

"And deflowering my virgin bathroom!" roared Ororo.

"But I didn't!"

"And makin' Kitty cry!" snapped Rogue, whose distinctive hair was visible for a moment under her hood.

"But I swear I didn't!"

"And irritating me!" growled a wolfish, Scottish-accented voice.

"But I didn't mean it!"

"And for having your CAR out in the OPEN where ANYONE could total it!" cried a petite figure with some tufts of dark hair visible, carrying a baseball bat.

"But I- wait. That I did sort of do."

"Mmmhmm," said all the girls conspiratorially.

"And for having crap-ass pictures in your crap-ass locker!" cried a figure dancing around a little.

"But I LIKE NSync!" wailed Scott piteously.

Jean shook her head. "So did I, Scott. A long time ago." A pause- then Jean gasped in horror. "YOU'RE CHEATING ON ME WITH THEM, TOO?"

"He is SO gay," whispered someone wearing a bright yellow jacket under her cloak.

"Well, what did I do to you?" he pleaded with Yellow Jacket.

Yellow Jacket mused, "Uh, nothing, come to think of it. This is for tomorrow."

"How will I be sinning tomorrow?" whispered Scott.

Jean's eyes flared in a Phoenixy way. "You'll be ALIVE, Scott. Simply by being alive."

"Ready the wax!" called Kitty callously. There was a hiss of something bubbling, and snickers as someone removed Scott's sunglasses.

Then, his pants were ripped off forcibly, and he felt a burning pain on his bikini line.

'This won't hurt a bit,' cooed Jean.

'Yeah,' snickered someone, 'it'll hurt a LOT!'

RIP.

SCREECH.

Cackle.

Predictably (for what - the eighth time in this fic?), Scott passed out.

---

Scott woke up the next day, feeling (curiously) relaxed and refreshed. He stretched luxuriously in bed, twisted and turned for a while, before getting up.

The first thing that hit him was that it was... quiet. There was no smashing of plates, and no screams -

'But why should there be?' he thought. Shrugging, he went off for a shower.

When he got back, he found that there were a lot of things that weren't right. For one thing, his legs were smooth and hairless. For another, his bikini line had been done. His hair (he ran a hand through it), it felt strangely glossy and thick. And his face was free of zits, and his eyebrows had been plucked.

He thought nothing of it, of course - until he went into his closet and picked out a cute little plaid blue top, with a mini-skirt and a beret to match. He posed briefly in front of the mirror, thinking of how he could make his legs look that little bit longer (not that they weren't long enough) when he realised what he was doing.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

Disgusted, he dropped the clothes and went for his usual (only today he didn't tuck his shirt into his trousers, thank God).

Turning to his mirror, he admired himself for a little bit. 'Maybe if I apply some lip gloss, I'd -'

'Scott?'

Scott jumped so high into the air that his head hit the ceiling.. Shaking, he turned around. 'Yes?'

Jean stood in his doorway, looking concerned. 'What's wrong?'

And then, suddenly, it all came back to him.

'You...' he whispered. Jean giggled nervously, taking a step into his room.

'Yes?'

'DON'T YOU COME NEAR ME!' he screeched. Jean slowly backed away.

'...'

Scott breathed a sigh of relief when she had left... before remembering that it was a school day. Sighing, he stomped out of his room, ready to face the music.

When he finally arrived downstairs, things seemed quite normal. All the girls were doing their usual thing- Tabitha was showing off dance moves she was sure she'd teach to famous music artists someday, Kitty was half-eating and half-typing an e-mail to her parents (closet computer geek, I'll have you know), Rogue was sitting in a corner by herself and rereading 'Dracula' for the eighty-seventh time that week (but judging from her dreamy expression she was more likely perving on a picture of Gambit she'd stuck inside the front cover). Everything seemed normal.

Of course, Sam looked a little skittish and the other boys broke down into laughter as soon as they saw him, but that was to be expected. After all, he was Scott Summers, Geekboy Extraordinaire.

He sidled cautiously into the room, and walked with slow, sure movements, towards the toaster, but as he reached for a slice of bread, his hand hit the back of Kitty's head.

'Whoops...' he mumbled.

Kitty turned around, her large, blue eyes fixed on him for a moment.

'Sorry,' he mumbled, about to take a large step back. Kitty frowned slightly.

Then she grinned widely. 'That's okay, Scott,' she said brightly. 'In fact -' she phased through him and grabbed a carton of orange juice. 'Thanks.' Humming something under her breath, she turned back to the computer screen.

Scott let out a sigh of relief, stuffing two pieces of bread in the toaster.

'Are you okay now?'

Uh oh. Scott turned around and glanced quickly at Jean. 'Uh, yeah. I'm fine now. Sorry about this morning...'

She shrugged. 'That's okay.' Behind him, the toast popped up; Jean lifted the pieces with her mind and snatched them away before he could do anything. 'So,' she said, walking over to the table. 'Are you ready for the English test today?'

Scott shrugged, putting another two slices of bread in the toaster. 'I certainly hope so-OO-'

Oh, shit.

Kurt, Evan, Ray, Bobby, Roberto, Sam and Jamie burst out laughing. Scott blushed red, shutting his mouth with a snap.

'Scott? Are you okay?' Jean asked in concern.

"Yeah, Scotty, are ya stoked about today?" sneered Evan.

Jamie smirked. "Tell us, Scott!"

Silence.

Kurt sniggered. 'I certainly hope so-OO,' he mocked. Sam, halfway through a glass of milk, snorted; it came out his nose, making everyone laugh harder.

"Shut up," he said quietly.

Ray chuckled. "We don't have a reason to, unLIke you-" He went crimson and clapped both hands over his mouth. Everyone pissed themselves again.

"It's contagious!" cried Jubes, biting on her knuckles to keep from laughing,

"Now, now, ev'ryone," smiled Rogue. "Don't be so hard on Ray and Scott. After all-" (She grinned evilly.) "- they can't hELp it!"

Everyone collapsed and started mimicking them. "Please pass the mILK!"

"Where i-IS my bag?"

"T-ABitha, come here!"

A fraction before Ray, Scott left and stood stonily outside the kitchen, awaiting the arrival of the other boys. For in mutants, it really DID seem to be contagious. They would come. Oh yes, they would come.

Gradually the laughter grew mostly female, overwhelmingly female and then wholly female, for each of the boys' voices had cracked in turn.

Scott scowled. Damn girls. They knew absolutely nothing about puberty.

- - - - -

DISCLAIMER: Most of the stuff here is... not ours. 'X-Men: Evolution' certainly isn't- unfortunately. Neither are any of the movies- oh, oh, and we ripped off 'Kung Pow: Enter the Fist' so blatantly it's not even funny.

... Well. We like to think the whole 'Momasa' thing is funny. Just how blatantly we did it isn't funny.

NOTES

Helen: Ehehe... this was thought up when one of us snicker was 'Surfing The Crimson Wave', so to speak, and told me that hot water bottles helped distract you from 'the Raging Ouch'...

Yes, we ARE girls, so you can stop screaming 'SEXISM!' over and over again. Besides, didn't all the Scott-bashing give you a clue?

So yeah. This was written over a one-and-a-half day period (snicker period. Sorry, that was purely coincidental) and was finished on my (Helen ) birthday! I'M SPECIAL!!! We had a lot of fun writing it, and thinking it up, and playing around with the phrase 'The Raging Ouch (which now officially belongs to Emily, so a curse be upon the heads of those who steal it - namely syphilis). But enough about that. It is time to read Emily's notes. READ IT, BITCH! READ IT GOOD!

Emily: Most of the things in this are private jokes we just randomly put in just because we COULD. Stuff like the 'I must, I must, I must increase my bust' chant (how FUNNY was Scott skipping, eh?) and "YOU ARE CHEATING ON ME IN SPIRIT!" I'm just sorry we couldn't put Mystique in it- but watch this space! Mystique (and absolutely everyone else in the whole show) plays a big role in our upcoming fic, 'Da Talent Show' or 'That Fic with the Song Parody that Nearly Got Helen Suspended'.

... Geez. This show really should be called: 'The Super-Stereotypes Go Through Puberty'.

Helen: REVIEW! REDUCE! RECYCLE!


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